Dusty Beginnings
by peet4paint
Summary: Kurt didn't realize the remodel would be so dusty.  *Rated M for non-graphic, non-penetrative, underage slash sex.  Don't read if you don't care for slash pairings, or are under the age of maturity.*


The bedroom is just about halfway done, plastic tacked up everywhere to try and minimize the dust.

The dust…

The dust gets everywhere, in their laundry and their rooms, their computers, hell even in their food.

Kurt doesn't blame Carole for not wanting to stick around through this. He only wishes he would've accompanied her when she invited him along.

Especially since his dad had to take off for a conference out of town. With his dad and Carole gone, the only other person left is—

"Hey, Kurt," Finn says sitting in a folding chair, kicking his feet up on the step-ladder the construction crew had left. He grabs a sandwich and goes to take a big bite of it.

"Are you insane," Kurt asks, waving his hands to gesture at the chaos surrounding them. "Do you really think it's healthy to eat _anything_ in a room surrounded by this much dust?" He takes a second to glance at Finn's sandwich. That just ends up adding more fuel to the flames already building up inside him. "_Especially_ that," he says, pointing at the offending sandwich.

"What's wrong with meatball sandwiches?" Finn asks. "I mean, I know they're usually kinda gross, but I added extra cheese and bacon to mine, so—"

Kurt makes an exasperated noise, cutting him off. "We'll talk about your wish for an early deathbed at another time. What we're talking about now is how you could be stupid enough to eat in a room so full of dust it's raining from the rafters!"

The thing is—

The thing is, no matter how much the dust bothers Kurt—how much it would bother any sensible person—for some reason, Finn seems absolutely oblivious to its presence.

Finn looks up at the ceiling. "Oh, that's what that was," he says, trying to brush dust off his hair. He ends up with it smeared all down his cheek.

"You!" Kurt says, taking a moist towelette from his pocket. "Do I have to actually bathe you?" he asks, exasperated.

But he looks up at just the wrong moment. Finn's frozen in his seat. Kurt's about to open his mouth, say, "_I didn't mean it that way, you imbecile_," when he sees a blush spread across Finn's face. Finn's eyes drop down—down to his lap. Where there's some serious movement going on.

Kurt feels himself blush scarlet, accidentally drops the towelette on the ground. He bends over to pick it up, but Finn goes for it at exactly the same moment.

They bump heads of course, like every cliché in the book. They check each other over, make sure everything's all right. Finn's hand ends up on Kurt's face somehow, looking him over so carefully. It's the most natural thing in the world for Kurt to lean in—for Finn to reach just a little farther. And suddenly they're kissing. Kurt doesn't even think about what a cliché that is.

The kiss—it's not what Kurt expected. It's just as soft as Kurt expected. Just as good as Kurt expected. It's just—when Kurt imagined the two of them kissing for the first time, he didn't really plan on all this dust.

"I—" Finn says.

Kurt doesn't let him get any more out than that. Before Finn can open his big fat mouth anymore and ruin this somehow, Kurt climbs on Finn's lap and starts kissing him again.

They're light, searching kisses with just a little bit of wetness. Kurt flicks his tongue out just to check if Brittany was right, but it really doesn't taste like _anybody's_ armpit.

Kurt feels himself slipping a little. He scoots forward and there—right there—is Finn Hudson's cock. It takes Kurt's breath away, makes him almost nervous suddenly. But Finn's not nervous at all. Finn's grunting and moaning and—"Oh my god! Did you just come?"

Finn blushes bright red. "uh…"

Kurt—Kurt just made _Finn Hudson_ come. In his pants. Like a fourteen-year-old. "Yeah?" he asks—breath coming heavy now.

Kurt thrusts against Finn's thigh, and huh, somehow Finn coming in his pants made Kurt hard. Really really hard.

Finn doesn't really say anything for a minute, just sits there looking embarrassed, but after Kurt starts rutting against him in short thrusts, Finn finally looks up. He looks right at Kurt, and there's such wonder in his eyes. "I—" Finn says, licks his lips—"you are just…so—" he makes a helpless motion.

"I'm so what?" Kurt asks, voice gone breathy. He starts thrusting even harder—which of course, of course, makes the chair topple over. Not all the way, they're tilting against the wall, Finn's neck bent at an awkward angle.

"You're so perfect," Finn says, hands landing on Kurt's hips, guiding Kurt's movements on his thigh.

"I—I am?" Kurt asks, blush growing on his face.

"You really really are," Finn says, and then he's kissing Kurt again.

And Kurt's holding onto the plastic wall coverings for dear life—thrusting against Finn's thigh there, there, _there_ until he comes.

They lay there, Finn contorted into an awkward 'c' shape until Kurt comes down enough to remember where he is.

As soon as he comes back to himself, Kurt scrambles to get off, hoping the spinal damage won't be permanent if he just moves fast enough. And then the chair collapses.

Kurt rushes over to Finn, concerned. But Finn throws an arm up in the air, shouts out, "I'm okay."

"Well, this wasn't exactly how I expected to lose my virginity," Kurt says, helping Finn to his feet.

"Wait, did it suck?" Finn asks, sounding a little hurt.

"No," Kurt says. Then he draws Finn down for a kiss, soft and sweet. "No, it was perfect. I just didn't expect it to be such a cliché."

"But it can't be a cliché, Kurt," Finn says, stopping to give Kurt another kiss. "There was too much dust."

And Kurt doesn't want to ask. It's just—that darned curiosity gets the better of him. "Finn, I didn't think you even knew the dust existed. I mean, you were practically showering in it every day."

Finn throws an arm around Kurt's shoulders, pulls the plastic aside and tugs him out of the room. "Of course I knew the dust existed. Being covered in dust was part of my master plan."

"Really?" Kurt says, a little skeptical.

"Yeah," Finn says, smiling down at him. "I knew that if I was covered in dust often enough you would have to crack eventually. And offer to bathe me." Finn's face turns bright red again and he looks away from Kurt.

"So this bathing thing," Kurt says. "How would you feel if we did a little of that right now?"

Finn practically gets whiplash he turns his head so fast. "Really?" he asks.

"Sure, why not," Kurt says, steering him toward the master bath. "Since it's part of your master plan and all."

"Uh—" Finn says, and then his eyes get a calculating look in them. "My plan…it had other parts."

"Oh, did it really?" Kurt asks, bemused.

"Oh, yeah," Finn says, feigning nonchalance. "One of them was you dressing up in—uh—the Princess Leia costume?"

"Was it really?" Kurt asks.

"Uh huh," Finn says, nodding his head hopefully.

"Not in a thousand years, Finn Hudson," Kurt says, smiling to himself. He figures there's a possibility he has Kurt wrapped around his finger. And that—that's right where he wants him.


End file.
